There is a certain alley in Ul'dah, not far from the Quicksand, in which there are often empty barrels. In this alley, aside from the occasional stray animal and worker swapping one barrel for another, sometimes one can spot a certain bearded, long haired bard, of what must be some sort of Highland ancestry, considering that Hyur seldom come that tall. One of those sometimes happened to be this particular morning. Nathan had chosen to linger in town a while, having subjected himself the night prior to a rather painfully mediocre make of rum called "Calibri Bay", which did indeed leave him tasting feathers and saltwater the next morning. It was his own fault, of course, but he was not mentally ready to start drinking the good stuff again, not after recent events. His good friend Madjack Red demanded a happier occasion.
So it was that Nathan was perched on the barrels, drinking from a small cup of the dusty-tasting water sold by the street vendors, when that activity was briefly spoiled by an errant dust devil, which blew a half-crumpled copy of the local gossip sheet across his wrist, wrapping itself there. As most reasonable and well-adjusted persons would likely have done in this situation, he set down the cup, and took a look at what providence had blown in.
"This, this is what one has to like about Ul'dah, that a woman can be identified as its Sex Queen, and that we can still suggest that any business she opens will remain classy, dignified and discreet."
He cleared his throat. Uldan water wasn't the best.
"Still, perhaps they will have need for a musician. After all, having ties to a house of ill repute isn't all that bad to someone whose repute is kept purposely tarnished as to prevent any further tarnish from sticking."
He climbed down from his perch, gulped down the rest of the water from pure biological necessity, and made a mental note to find the place.
So it was that Nathan was perched on the barrels, drinking from a small cup of the dusty-tasting water sold by the street vendors, when that activity was briefly spoiled by an errant dust devil, which blew a half-crumpled copy of the local gossip sheet across his wrist, wrapping itself there. As most reasonable and well-adjusted persons would likely have done in this situation, he set down the cup, and took a look at what providence had blown in.
"This, this is what one has to like about Ul'dah, that a woman can be identified as its Sex Queen, and that we can still suggest that any business she opens will remain classy, dignified and discreet."
He cleared his throat. Uldan water wasn't the best.
"Still, perhaps they will have need for a musician. After all, having ties to a house of ill repute isn't all that bad to someone whose repute is kept purposely tarnished as to prevent any further tarnish from sticking."
He climbed down from his perch, gulped down the rest of the water from pure biological necessity, and made a mental note to find the place.
"But in the laugh there was another voice. A clearer laugh, an ironic laugh. A laugh which laughs because it chooses not to weep."